The Rightful Queen Daenerys Rules The Iron Throne
by Girl Khaleesi
Summary: Ok, so basically Daenerys goes into this huge war in attempt to take the Iron Throne and succeeds. This is how I think Game of Thrones should end. If Daenerys dies, then I will curse George RR Martin and wish for the Gods, Old and New, to give him no mercy when he dies. I'm sorry but Daenerys is like a big sis to me. :) Enjoy :)
1. Chapter 1

*DISCLAIMER* I own none of George RR Martin's characters, nor have I influenced in any way the series he wrote. And, although I wish I had done these things, I haven't, and I present to you my fan fiction where Daenerys Stormborn of the house Targaryen rightfully claims the Iron Throne! Enjoy! :)

Daenerys stood over her Khalasar. The sun shone behind her, casting her shadow over men, causing her to seem taller and more significant. Although she was but a silhouette in the setting sun, she was also the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. The rightful Queen. The saviour. The soft summer wind blew her hair to the left, in a heroic stance as she stood on her mound. She was wearing her signature blue dress, parts of her hair braided to keep from falling onto her face. Next to her Dothraki army, the Unsullied stood tall and straight, not flinching, showing no emotion on their face. Grey Worm was in the front of the barracks and he, too, was unemotional. In a way, Dany admired how well these men were trained, even though she certainly did not admire the method they had taken to produce the end result: slaves. Bound, freedom not an option.

But that is why I must rule the Seven Kingdoms, Daenerys thought determinedly. I must rule, and free slaves. Poverty will not exist so long as fresh blood pulses through me and I am not burnt at an altar. Solemnly, she thought back on Khal Drogo. He would have been prod of her and her accomplishments. But, alas, thanks to that maegi, Mirri Maz Durr, he had died of his infection. It was all her fault. But then she reflected on how, if not for that wretched maegi, her dragons would not have hatched, she would not have been compelled to walk into the flame, and came out unscarred, three dragons suckling at her breasts. She looked over to them now, tearing through animal carcasses, big and beautiful beasts. Drogon, with his scarlet and midnight black scales, glimmering with heat, named after the most feared Khal in Vaes Dothrak. He had inherited the leadership and respect that was rightfully his. Viserion, ivory and pearl scales sparkling in the sun, named after her brother, who was assumed to be the last dragon and once was the heir to The Iron Throne, destined to rule over the Seven Kingdoms. He inherited Viserys's furious nature, and urge to rule and conquer. And Rhaegal, named after her brother Rhaegar, who, before Viserys, was to inherit the Iron Throne and rule after her father. Whilst Dany knew not much about her brother, she knew he was fearless and courageous. Rhaegal had definitely inherited that, and Dany knew he lived on in Rhaegal.

"Khaleesi," Missandei respectfully stood at the bottom of the small hill, waiting for her Queen to return. Dany had taken Missandei into her custody, keeping her for guidance, and as a friend.

"Yes, Missandei?" Dany replied, voice smooth and thick with accent. "What is it you would like to share?"

Missandei bowed, a short, curt bow of respect. "Yes, I wish to inform you of your Khalasar. They are terrified, My Lady, they fear you have not the knowledge or enough numbers to conquer King's Landing, the land over The Narrow Sea. They do not wish to be put in front of the Soldiers-Who-Do-Not-Fall. It terrifies them that you are leading them in first. I, also, must add my concern to the matter, why do you put them in front when The Unsullied are suited for the role?"

Dany sighed. Perhaps no one would truly know what she did. But that was what gave her the element of surprise, no one could match her intellectually. She had learnt so much, travelling from place to place. She supposed it was good that not even her allies could determine what she had planned. "Because," she spoke as if explaining to a child, "my Khalasar have something the Unsullied do not; a life. They have lives to fight for, they have the free will to be determined, to have hope. They have the energy and will to fight for their life they do not wish to lose. The Unsullied have not had lives since the first precious moments when they were released from their mothers' womb. They do not have what my Khalasar have, and that, Missandei, is why I put my Khalasar at the front."

Even after that, Missandei did not seem convinced, but she bowed and said "Shall I tell them what words you have spoken, My Lady?"

"No, I shall tell them myself." Dany paused, and then said in a whispered voice to Missandei, "Besides, I, too, shall ride into battle on my dragons and lay siege using breaths of fire, claws of steel, and teeth which shall soon taste the blood of men. They will not stand a chance."


	2. Chapter 2

Daenerys donned her armour, golden bronze breastplate and dragonsteel helm. She bore no weapons; her dragons were enough, however much Missandei insisted she donned a bow and a quiver filled with the finest arrows her father had carved from a weeping tree. Daenerys once again stared out on her sea of men. Her army. They were following the right leader. Tyrion waddled over. Daenerys pitied him, really. After all, he was banished as well. An outcast. She would avenge all who were not treated with the respect deserved.

"My Lady," Tyrion bowed best he could, which was only a little shorter than he was standing. His accent was easy to pinpoint if you ever met him. His black and green eyes shone. But rather than thinking him a weird dwarf, or a half-man, which was pretty much the lowest insult anyone could get in Vaes Dothrak, Daenerys regarded him with the same respect as anyone who was full in hight. Tyrion was useful. Past his witty and sarcastic comments, he was smarter than the average man. His knowledge of books, history, coinage and battle strategy, as well as knowing King's Landing's weaknesses, he could be the decider whether they win or die. For that was just how you played the Game of Thrones.

"Tyrion," Daenerys greeted him. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" Tyrion looked up at her and studied her face before replying, as if to check if she were mocking him. But, in truth, Dany had meant what she said to some point.

"I'm sorry to interrupt. You were standing there with such… longing in your eyes, I thought it rude to interrupt."

Dany had not known Tyrion and been standing there, and she vaguely wondered how long he had watched her staring into the distance. She shook off the thoughts and regained her Queenly composition.

"No, it's ok. I was just musing. I grow impatient, and am anxious for the battle to commence." Daenerys stood well over Tyrion Lannister, and, in some way, it gave her confidence, for she was not considered tall for her age.

"They will sing songs of the glory you brought the people." Tyrion promised. "But this is not why I came. There are urgent matters you need to oversee." Daenerys nodded her head, and Tyrion turned away, his curious walking style vaguely interesting Dany. She shortened her strides and slowed her pace to keep next to Tyrion. A few short minutes later, they arrived at a summer orange tent and walked inside, the dim light inside a harsh change for Daenerys to adjust to. She waited a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the lighting, before seeing her small council seated at a small round table.

Missandei sat among them, wearing a pale orange wrap around dress, a sash around her a slightly darker shade of orange. Her dark brown curly hair was held behind an orange headband. Grey Worm was standing, his chair untouched. He wore the usual black helm and armour. Despite no enemies being near, he held his spear. Tyrion tottered over to join them. One of Khal Drogo's BloodRiders once stood in this tent before he had sacrificed himself defending her.

Daenerys took her seat at the head of the table. "So, what of this? Why was I called here so urgently?"

Tyrion spoke. "I'm afraid we have found some flaws in our previous battle plan."

Daenerys was confused. Everything had already been planned out…

Daenerys would ride in on Drogon, and, after shouting the command, her dragons would lay siege to Mud Gate, allowing her Khalasar to destroy the first line of soldiers, whilst the Unsullied would climb up the wall and take care of the archers. She and her dragons would burn most of the opposing army, and then head for the Castle and claim the Iron Throne.

"What is wrong with this plan?" she asked Tyrion.

The dwarf looked grave, his usual witty humour air gone. "They have dragons too."


End file.
